


What Could Have Been

by Cutekittenlady



Series: Black Paladin Zarkon AU [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black paladin zarkon au, Gen, Zarnerva, allura and lotor are childhood friends, galran royal family, oneshot a chapter fic, zaggar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14392920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutekittenlady/pseuds/Cutekittenlady
Summary: In the series of ever connected and infinite universes, it is a known rule that the changing of one single factor, action, decision, or outcome will irreversibly create a path into a different future. A different universe.Here is a glimpse into moments of just one.





	1. Happy News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honerva surprises both her guests and her husband with some unexpected news.

Zarkon allowed his food utensil to drop into the soup with an audible sploosh sending a wave of broth over the side of the bowl. He stared at Honerva, not even registering the servant trying to clean the mess at his elbow.

The other paladin’s were staring as well. Half chewed food fell from Gyrgan’s mouth before Trigel could reach over and slowly close his jaw. Her eyes not leaving the altean alchemist. Blaytz’s face was convulsed in some mix of amusement and shock that apparently had him rendered speechless. Even Alfor looked like some frozen creature in the path of some oncoming threat.

Meanwhile Honerva just continued eating, completely blind to the effect she had rendered with just a few choice words.

In the end it was Queen Melenor, Alfor’s normally quietly observant partner, who spoke up.

“Honerva, darling,” She began gently. “Can you run that all by us again?”

Honerva raised her head, paused, and repeated, “I was saying the new generators for the interplanetary spacecraft were-”

“No darling.” Melenor interrupted. “The _other_ thing.”

Raising an eyebrow and glancing at her husband, Honerva asked, “What I said about me having a baby or about that algae you all found on that moon?”

“Ah,” Melenor smiled in satisfaction. “The first bit.”

“You’re pregnant?!” Blaytz suddenly blurted, the food from his mouth flying everywhere. Earning himself a glare from Trigel. “Like, with a little version of you and Zarkon?!”

“W-well that’s not a precise descriptor of the process but-”

“How far along are you?” Trigel cut in her usually collected voice tinged with excited curiosity.

“A few movements I think.” Honverva shrugged. “Is it important?”

“Important?!” Alfor stood up suddenly. “This is a momentous occasion! A cause for celebration!”

“So this means there’ll be _another_ baby right?!” Grygan managed after finally swallowing his food. “Someone for little Allura to play with?!”

Blaytz moved around the table and threw his arm around his leader’s shoulders.

“Zarkon you son of a guzmo! When were you planning on telling us this?!”

He waited to be shrugged off and reprimanded for acting up. When it didn’t come he stared down at his friend whose face was frozen in an expression of shock. Zarkon eyes were wide and his mouth hung open in a way uncharacteristic of him.

“H-Husband?” Honerva asked her voice tinged with concern. “Are you alright?”

Zarkon didn’t respond.

Blaytz glanced at Grygan, who shrugged, before slowly taking the cup from Zarkon’s hand…

… which remained suspended in air in the same rigid position.

Melenor clicked her tongue.

“Honverva?”

“Y-yes?”

“You DID tell your husband you were with child _before_ now… didn’t you?”

“Of course I did!” she stopped as Melenor gave her a speculative look. “At least… I remember making a note of it in my office.”

“Ah,” Melenor had seen Honerva’s office. And all of the discarded notes within. “That’s a no then.”

“Uh guys?” Blaytz waved his hand in front of Zarkon’s face but elicited no response. “I think he might be broken.”

“Interesting,” Trigel hummed. “I’m no doctor, but I’d say this is a case of acute paralysis caused by shock.”

“Will he be okay?” Grygan asked.

“He’ll be fine. We just have to wait for him to snap out of it.”

“How long will that take?” Alfor asked.

Trigel shrugged. “The longest I’ve heard is a few hours but it’s possible he could be like this for days or even-”

“I’m going to be a father?!” Zarkon stood up so suddenly that his chair fell to the floor.

“-Or a few minutes… well…” she sounded disappointed but nonetheless soldiered on. “Happy he’s alright.”

Honerva found herself being picked up by the waist by a pair of large and powerful hands.

“Is this true beloved?!”

He was holding her above him so that she had a clear unobstructed view of his face. She couldn’t recall ever seeing her husband filled with such an unrestrained sense of childish excitement. Aside from their wedding night that is.

But that had been with just the two of them. This was in front of everyone. For him to forgo all formality and express himself so openly in burst of such uncontrolled emotion….

Honerva smiled at all that implied.

“Yes” she watched as the smile grew on her husband's face “We’re going to have a baby.”

Zarkon laughed and spun her around as their guests applauded and congratulated them. Even the servants and guards couldn't help but join in the jubilation.

Normally, such a display of undisciplined behavior would have caused the emperor's ire, but on this occasion he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to my black paladin Zarkon AU!  
> The big idea behind this AU is that Alfor convinced Zarkon to close the rift, Honerva never became obsessed with quintessence (though I dare say the interest lingers) and, of course, young Lotor is born just a few years after Allura and grows up in the hey day of the alliance.
> 
> Will it be smooth sailing? Or are there rough seas, even during times of peace?


	2. Lions and Lambs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon expresses his concerns for the future. Honerva becomes apprehensive. Lotor would just like to play.

“Rawr!”

Zarkon couldn’t help but chuckle at his child's tiny roar.

“Not quite strong enough yet my son.”

He spoke gently as he carefully readjusted his on in his arms.

Lotor was only a couple years old now. His size and strength reflected that. The boy didn’t even have a firm grasp of language, only really communicating through sounds and gestures.

Moments like this were rare. No pressing missions for the paladins nor any immediate local matters to address. Leaving the emperor with some much needed free time.

Honerva sat at his elbow, datapad still in hand. Though an occasional chuckle at their sons antics made it clear she was very much present even if her work still lingered at the corner of her mind.

It was a moment that embodied something Zarkon had always on some level wanted but had never known hed needed. Before Honerva, the emperor had never envisioned himself with something as intimate as a spouse or as personal as a child. He’d been a young bachelor through and through. With the responsibility of marrying and producing a blood successor a distant and often forgotten one.

Now however things were different.

Lotor had moved on from his meager attempts at vocal intimidation to physically attempting to climb up his father’s torso. A feat that proved to be about as productive as physically moving a mountain. The fact that he could only reach the rim of Zarkon’s shirt when his father bent down made it doubly so.

Picking his son up one handed by the back of his clothes, Zarkon dangled the boy in the air so that they were face to face. Outside of what the emperor would describe as a surprised squeak, Lotor did not appear to be at all perturbed. In fact, after taking a short moment to blink at his father, he immediately began patting his face as hard as he could. An attack that did about as much damage to Zarkon as having a handful of flower petals thrown in his face.

“That’s not how you are supposed to hold a child, dear.”

Honerva was staring up at him with a wry smile as she set aside her datapad and opened her arms. With a blush of embarrassment, Zarkon handed Lotor off to his mother.

“Now,” Honerva spoke once she had settled the giddy child in her arms. “What is the matter?”

“What do you mean?”

Honerva frowned disapprovingly at the obvious attempt at dodging and continued undeterred.

“You’ve been preoccupied lately. Looking off into space and not paying attention when people speak to you.”

“I have been busy.”

“You are ALWAYS busy. Even when you’re idle. And your usually very sharp about the things and people around you even when tired.” Honerva paused in this analysis to stop Lotor’s hand from tugging on her hair allowing Zarkon to launch a rejoinder.

“I did not realize you observed me so much.”

“You are my _husband_ .” She said with feeling. “It would be unnatural to _not_ observe you.”

Zarkon couldn't help but smile gratefully at the remark.

“That is why I, more than anyone, can tell when you are bothered. So please, do tell me what is on your mind.”

Zarkon’s eyes fell on Lotor as he sat in his mother's arms preoccupying himself with observing the goings on outside of the nearest window. Absentmindedly, he rested one of his giant hands on the child. The difference in size was readily apparent.

Honerva shifted to face him.

“Does it have to do with Lotor?”

The change in his countenance answered her question.

“It is just,” he spoke haltingly as he ran his thumb over the top of the boys head. “He is so… small.”

Honerva’s brows knit.

“His size is not abnormal for this stage in his development. In terms of weight, things were going well last I checked. If it is a matter of his health-”

Zarkon stopped her before she could devolve into technical jargon.

“That is not what I meant. It is just… he's so _tiny_.” He stared at his hand compared to the size of his son. “I feel that if I am not careful, I may crush him.”

“You likely could. Speaking literally.”

Zarkon sighed. His point was not getting across.

“You are aware of how I became emperor?”

“Yes. Alfor told me the story.”

The emperor grunted.

Alfor was, of course, allowed to speak freely of their adventurers together. It wasn't like Zarkon had sworn any of his comrades to secrecy. Though he now wished he had.

Zarkon didn't consider himself a conceited man, but losing the opportunity to regale his lady love with the take of his great conquest rather stung.

Honerva watched him thoughtfully before resigning herself.

“Of course,” she chose her tone carefully. “It was so long ago and I had only been paying half attention.”

The tone had an immediate effect.

Zarkon's eyes brightened and he began narrating.

“When the previous emperor met his demise he left behind no heir to take the throne. Naturally a Kral Zera was declared to decide a successor. I was a major general under Emperor Drule and the most popular candidate for the position. Despite my position there were still those who would challenge my rightful claim to the throne. I overcame them all, naturally.”

Honerva listened with matrimonial loyalty. It was her private opinion that, had anyone other than her husband had been victorious, they'd likely have expressed their 'right’ to the throne with as much vindication that Zarkon did.

“But it was not an easy victory. My expanded experience in battle alongside Alfor and the others gave me an upper hand. That and a great deal of support from Emperor Drules remaining forces.”

“Of course,” Honerva agreed with a wave of a hand before heading straight to the point. “What does it have to do with Lotor?”

Zarkon once more fell uncharacteristically silent before finally speaking plainly.

“Many things on Daibazaal are decided that way. Right of rule through combat has always been our way. The powerful, the experienced, the ambitious. That is who the leaders of the galra have always been.” He ran his fingers through Lotors hair affectionately as the boy lay drowsily in his mother's arms. “Anything less is crushed underfoot.”

The direness of his tone put Honerva on edge.

“You think,” Honerva spoke as she tightened her grip on the child in her arms protectively. “That someone might try to kill Lotor?”

“Not like that.” Zarkon tried to assure, though his voice was still serious. “I do not speak of assassination. That is an ever present danger for someone in my- in _our_ positions. Even then, children are special to we galra. Harming one, for any reason, is… unthinkable.”

This insight gave Honerva little comfort. Her husband tended to assume that his own standards and code of conduct was shared amongst all of his people. Many men in his position often did in her experience.

“What I mean is that authority is dictated by strength and power amongst the galra. As a result the ambitious keep a lookout for anything exploitable. Any signs of…”

He paused trying to pick his words carefully.

“Weakness?” Honerva offered in that cold practical tone that was characteristic of her displeasure. “You're afraid Lotor will be perceived as weak. Because of me.”

“No.” Zarkon tried to sound firm, but his voice shook uncertainty. “It is not his blood. Not you. It's… argh, it is hard to place into words.”

He resorted to metaphor.

“It is like… like he is a small lamb. A small helpless lamb.”

Honerva stared.

Zarkon sighed.

“He is my son. My heir. That alone makes him a target of unfavorable attention. I am not so confident in my position to assume I do not have enemies. Enemies who would use any crack in my own armor as an opening for attack.” He slumped against his wife dejectedly. “And Lotor is _small_ . If he does not grow-”

“He WILL grow.”

“He might not. There were complications when he was born. And he is still small. He may be healthy now, but that won't stop him from being viewed as a _runt_.” He spat the word before immediately becoming withdrawn. “If that should come about, I am unsure if I can protect him.”

By now Lotor had dozed off and was snoozing soundly surrounded by the warmth of his parents touch. Completely unaware that he was the subject of such a dire discussion.

Honerva quietly placed her own hand on Zarkons in a show of solidarity.

“Do you leave me out of your thoughts for the future?” She asked bitterly. “Do you assume I will not, or can not, protect my own child?”

Zarkon couldn't help but give a tired, amused, smile.

“Of course not my love.”

Honerva leaned into his chest.

“He will grow, husband.” Her husky voice was low but stern. “Even if he does not, that does not make him helpless. You'll see.”

He did not reply. Instead, Zarkon savored the moment of intimacy and clung to it like it would not come again.

“You'll see.” Honerva repeated. “Our little lamb will become a fierce lion. Then see what becomes of those _enemies_ of yours.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this actual potential drama? Some vague foreshadowing of things yet to come?  
> Am I full of it?  
> Maybe, who knows.


	3. Gen-et-icks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura teases, and Lotor rebels against an embarrassing nickname.

Prince Lotor didn’t particularly like flowers.

There were few natural blooms on planet Daibazaal, but the ones that had evolved were valued more for their effects as drugs and medicine than for their purely aesthetic appeal. Planet Altea, however, was practically coated in flowers of varying colors and designs. Many of them had several practical uses, but the abundance of them gave them a frivolous appeal to the planets inhabitants.

He admitted that the colorful variety of altean flora was beautiful, but otherwise Lotor lacked any real interest in them.

Princess Allura on the other hand, absolutely adored flowers.

Whenever Lotor accompanied his father on visits to Planet Altea, the large field of flowers just outside of the castle was the first place he looked for the Princess. Time after time, almost without fail, she was found there.

The Prince and Princess had practically been brought up together. There were few other people, both on their own homeworlds and off, who were their equals in status while also the same age. As a result, whenever there were any major discussions or meetings to be had, Lotor and Allura found themselves pushed together and left to play in some out of the way spot.

So it was that, whenever he was on Daibazaal, Lotor found himself sitting in an open field surrounded on all sides by more flowers than he could reasonably identity. Princess Allura at his side.

Allura sat in a bushel of flowers, squishing them under her legs as she did so, as she fiddled with a few picked flowers in her hand. Lotor watched in passive fascination as she wove the stems clumsily together with her fingers until it formed a long chain.

“What are you doing?”

“Making flower crowns.” She replied without explanation.

“What’s a flower crown?” Lotor asked, his brows knitting in confusion.

The string of stems and buds certainly didn’t _look_ like any kind of crown he’d ever seen. His mother and father didn’t seem to bother much with stuff like crowns, though he’d seen ones on visiting dignitaries and the like.

“It’s crown made out of flowers.” Allura replied with a huff as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh.” For a moment Lotor contemplated the pros and cons of informing the princess that her crown looked more like a wreath that had been trimmed too many times than any kind of regal headwear. In the end he decided it would prove to be unwise.

“Finished!” Allura held the small project proudly out to the prince for inspection.

Lotor looked between the flower crown and Allura while forcing a polite smile.

“It’s very… nice princess.”

“Put it on!”

The smile instant fell.

“I’d really rather not-”

The protest fell on deaf ears as Allura moved forward and dropped the circle of flowers over Lotor’s head. The loop proved to be too wide to sit properly atop his head and instead ended up hanging lopsidedly around his neck, one side hooked to his left ear.

“I think it is a bit loose.” Lotor sighed.

Allura frowned, a look of confused disappointment on her face.

“But I made one for father and Coran that fit perfectly.” She pouted. “Your just too small.”

Lotor unhooked the ‘crown’ from his ear and let it hang around his neck while muttering irately, “I’m not that small. You just made it too big.”

“No I didn’t! I used the right amount of flowers. I _counted_. Your head is just too tiny.”

The prince stewed on that for a moment. It was true that Allura had always been the taller of the two. She was also older than Lotor by a whole year and always boasted of the seniority both these things offered her.

And she never let Lotor forget it.

“You’re not that much bigger than me you know.” He shot back weakly. “You still can’t reach the pedals in the practice ship.”

Allura hesitated for a moment before countering.

“Well… I’ll be big enough to reach soon. Hyst tells me girls grow faster than boys. Or maybe I’ll just morph my legs long enough to reach.”

“That’s cheating.”

“No it's not!” Allura said firmly, crossing her arms stubbornly. “Father said that if I was able to morph I wouldn’t be able to do it until I was older anyway. So by then, I’ll be so much bigger I won’t have to do it unless I absolutely gotta.”

Lotor reflected his young childlike mind on this argument but couldn’t find a failing in the flawless logic.

“Well… It’s okay if we’re talking about when we’re _older_.” He spoke carefully, a small idea forming in his mind.

Yes. When they were older things would be different. It was funny how it had all never occurred to him before. There was ONE way he potentially had Allura beat in the long game. He wondered if the same thing had ever occurred to the princess.

“Well of course,” She scoffed. “I’ll get older first of course. Which means I’ll get taller first. Which means you’ll always be shorter than me Little Lotor.”

Allura enjoyed teasing him with the nickname. It never failed to make the Prince blush in embarrassment as he tried to argue how NOT little he was. Everyone had reprimanded her for her teasing, and how mean it was but Allura felt that she really couldn’t help it. It was just so easy to rile Lotor up over his height.

“W-well,” Lotor began a bit unsurely but slowly gaining confidence as he spoke. “I won’t be little forever! I’ll get older too, and I’m almost certain I’ll be taller than you.”

The princess frowned. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Lotor usually continued to argue about how not little until he got fed up enough that Allura could levy any challenge to him with the grand prize of never calling him Little Lotor again.

Things like, beating the Princess in a wrestling match, stealing cookies from the castle kitchen, or seeing who could get their father’s bayard first. Lotor had lost all of the challenges of course. (with the failure of the last resulting in both himself and Allura being grounded on their planets for three whole phoebs with nothing to do but study, train, eat, and sleep. Maddening.)

“Nu-uh,” Allura hesitated. “You’re just bluffing. I’ll get big first, so it only follows that I’ll have a head start on being taller.”

“Yeah, but in the end it’s not age that decides how tall your gonna be. It’s,” here Lotor paused to make sure he wa saying the word correctly. “Gen-et-icks.”

“Gen-et-icks?” Allura repeated carefully. “What does genick-genet-what you just said, have to do with being taller?”

“Mother told me that gen-et-icks is what determines what a person looks like.” Lotor explained. “Like, what color your hair and eyes are and stuff like how big and tall you are and stuff.”

“So?”

“SO, gen-et-icks is determined by what your parents look like. Like, if both your mother and father have the same hair color, your likely to get that hair color too.”

Allura absentmindedly touched her own white locks, thinking about her mother’s long white hair. And again, as funny as Lotor looked to most people, when you really looked at him you could definitely see bits and pieces of Honerva and Zarkon in him. So from the princess’s rather limited experience what the prince was talking about seemed more or less true.

“So,” Lotor continued. “If one of your parents is really really tall. Then there’s a good chance you’ll be really really tall too.”

“Yeah?” The princess’s lips pressed together. She was pretty sure she knew what Lotor was getting at. “So what?”

“SO, my father is TALLER than your father correct?”

Allura didn’t reply.

“Isn’t he?” Lotor prodded.

“M-Maybe.” The princess quitely admitted.

“He IS. Father is much much taller than King Alfor! So it stands to reason that, since my father is taller than your father, that I’ll be taller too.”

“Yeah, but…” Allura bit her lower lip searching for some kind of argument.

“No buts.” Lotor crossed his arms smugly. “That's science. You can’t get away from science.”

“Well… your MOTHER isn’t taller than my father.” The princess said grasping at straws. “You already look a lot like her, I bet you’ll only get as tall as her too.”

The prince’s shoulders straightened indignantly.

“Mother is NOT that short. Besides, she and King Alfor are the same size! In fact, I bet mother is even TALLER.”

“No she’s not!”

“Yes she is! Besides, King Alfor is shorter than ALL the paladins. And MY dad’s the tallest. That means I’m like a bajillion times more likely to be the tallest when we’re grown up.”

“Bajillion’s not a number.” Allura sniffed. “Anyway, when we’re all grown up, THEN you’ll see. I’ll be a lot taller than you.”

Lotor didn’t respond, instead he absentmindedly began picking flowers to try and make his own flower crown. It was nice to finally have a solid argument against the princess’s teasing. The boost in confidence was enough to make him think that maybe, just maybe, he could make a flower crown too. One that was nice and neat, and NOT too big….

And maybe one that would look nice on top of Allura’s head.

She couldn’t stay mad at him after that.

  



	4. Pranks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A joke of Princess Allura's goes wrong.

“This is a bad idea.”

Allura ignored the cautionary statement and continued pouring the contents of the bottle onto the plate of food.

“I  _ mean  _ it princess. You shouldn’t be doing this.”

Rolling her eyes, Allura clamored down off the chair before speaking directly to Lotor, who hadn’t budged from his strategically placed vigil by the door.

“No one’s gonna know it was me! Least not if no one tells.”

She gave the prince a pointed glare, still not having forgiven him for tattling when she’d slipped a lizard down the back of Coran’s shirt a week previously.

For his part, Lotor had the decency to look sheepish as he replied.

“But if someone finds out…”

“No one will find out!”

Honestly, Lotor was a fun playmate most days but whenever Allura came up with a really FUN idea he always got sheepish. She’d have stopped including him on pranks a long time ago if it wasn't for the fact that there were no other kids around her age.

“It’s just a bit of spice in Gyrgan’s food. He’ll probably barely notice it.”

Lotor still didn’t look convinced.

“Father won't like it if he finds out.”

“He wont find out!” Allura repeated. “It’s not even his plate! Don’t be such a-”

They stopped as sounds drifted in from the hall. Lotor risked a glance.

“They’re coming!”

“Well don't just stand there!” Allura physically shoved Lotor out of the room and behind one of the hallway supports. “GO, GO, GO!”

They stood stock still as the familiar voiced of the paladins came closer and closer.

“-I know that accepting all that food was expect and all, but did you HAVE to eat ALL of it?”

“Yes, Blaytz.” Gyrgan groaned in pain. “Yes I did. Someone had to eat it or they'd have taken offense.”

“We could have helped.” Alfor reminded as he guided his friend into the dining hall and into a seat.

“Speak for yourself.” Trigel took her own seat with a tired sigh. “The Balazar’s cuisine is  _ unique  _ and we all know Gyrgan has the strongest stomach.”

“Speak for YOURself.” Gyrgan said before emanating another groan. “I’m sorry Alfor I don’t think I could eat another bite.”

Allura made a sound of disappointment as Lotor sighed in relief.

Those reactions flipped when Trigel next spoke.

“Well we can not just allow it to go to waste.”

The children leaned closer to the door.

“I don’t think I can even look at a plate of food right now.” Blaytz chuckled awkwardly.

Trigel hummed. “And I fear I am not hungry.”

“It is of no consequence.” King Alfor soothed. “I can have it taken away and recycled.

Allura huffed in irritation.

“Aww, it was so close.”

“C’mon Allura. Lets just go.” Lotor tugged on the princess’s sleeve. “Your joke didn't work so let's just go find something else to do.”

With a disappointed sigh, Allura consented.

“Alright,” she turned away from the door. “Lets go.”

For just a moment, Lotor gave her a grateful look as a sense of relief settled into his posture.

At least until Zarkon spoke.

“I will take it.”

They could have heard a pin drop. Lotor’s face morphed into an expression of abject horror as Allura’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Are you sure Zarkon?”

“Wasting food is a terrible habit to develop Alfor.” Zarkon chided. “Besides I haven't eaten since Daibazaal.”

Lotor glared at Allura and harshly whispered. 

“You said he wouldn’t find out!”

“Well if you insist,” Alfor laughed. “Then I won't stop you.”

Lotor let out a squeak of fear.

“Y-You are being dramatic.” Allura nervously reassured. “It is just some over spiced food.”

“Father HATES mouth burning food!”

The sound of clinking silverware made Allura’s stomach drop.

Lotor sniffled. “He’s gonna be so mad.”

Allura glanced at the door and back to the now borderline tearful Lotor. Any moment now, Emperor Zarkon would swallow food doused in one of the spiciest sauces in the quadrant and his first order of business, after downing several drinks, would be to find whoever was responsible and discipline them. No matter WHO they were.

In that moment, something deep in the Princess’s core made a decision. Or rather, the decision had already been made and it was simply making itself known.

“Run.” She hissed as the conversation in the dining hall suddenly stopped.

Lotor stared at her.

“What do you-”

“RUN.” Allura repeated as she meaningfully pointed down the hall.

Lotor hesitated for a moment, but only a moment, before booking it down the hall at breakneck speed.

Allura covered her ears, and braced herself for her sacrifice.

A few moments passed.

And then the dining hall exploded.


	5. Lance and Blaytz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two blue paladins have a bit of a training session.

Lance growled as he was once again knocked back by Blaytz’s blade. The energy blade in his hand blinked and fizzled in response to the blow. However the newly minted paladin wasnt one to give up.

He charged again.

Only to be blocked by the side of Blaytz’s own energy blade.

“Quiznak!” Lance swung again. “How do I-”

Blaytz switched from the sword in his left hand to the one in his left, chuckling as he effortlessly parried the feeble swing.

“C’mon kiddo.” he lightly teased. “You arent getting in any hits!”

“I know that!” Lance staggered back a few steps to try and gain some distance.

“Retreating?” Blaytz gave Lance a grin lined with sharp teeth. “You know I’m the one defending here right? If anything  _ I _ should be trying to get away from  _ you _ .”

“It sure doesnt feel like it. How is this even fair? You have two swords while I only have one!”

“Now don’t be like that kid. Not everyone on the battlefield is going to be a polite gent and wait around for you to find an equal number of weapons. I mean  _ some  _ warriors do that but they’re weird. And usually terrifying.”

“Okay, but why are we practicing with swords? My bayards a gun.”

“True.” Blaytz  admitted. “But what’ll you do if you end up in close quarters combat? Long distance weapons wont do you much good when youre surrounded with at least three swords pressed to your throat.”

Lance didn’t reply to that. Preferring to use his time to circle around his would-be mentor, trying to find an opening to attack.

Becoming the new blue paladin was a lot more difficult than he’d initially imagined. He’d been excited, happy even, when Blaytz had approached him on the subject. 

It had also been a shock. 

Both because his long time honorary alien uncle had turned out to be a key leader on planet Nalquod as well as pilot of one of the most dangerous war machines in the known universe, and because of all the people Blaytz could have chosen for this postion, he’d chosen  _ Lance _ .

The weight of the position wasn’t entirely lost on the human boy. Piloting the blue lion, being a savior of the universe, defending the peace, etc. It was all a massive responsibility. One with a heavy weight to it.

While distracted with his own inner musings, Blaytz took the opportunity to rush him. With a yelp Lance dodged the strike. Only to then feel his legs being swept out from under him and an energy blade pointed right between his eyes.

“Don’t get distracted.” Blaytz scolded in an unusually strict tone. “If this were a real fight I’d have at least taken off your nose.”

“But its my best feature.” Lance defended pityingly. “And didn’t you just say you were defending?”

“I was.” Blaytz withdrew the weapon from his face and with some invisible motion caused the weapon to dissipate before offering the now free hand to help Lance up.

He took it without complaint.

“Defending doesnt just mean holding your ground and throwing up a shield. Some enemies are too aggressive to just hold off.”

Lance allowed the much stronger nalquodian to pull him back up onto his feet and lightly dust off his shoulder.

“Sometimes defense means getting a little… offensive.”

“You know on earth we call that an oxymoron.”

Blaytz grinned at Lance’s coyness.

“Well its a true one. Trust me on this.”

Lance didn’t reply. Instead he took the moment to get serious.

“Do you think I’m really ready for this?”

The question seemed enough to catch the older mans attention. His grin immediately shrinking down to a much more conservative smile.

“I wouldn’t have taken you to the castle if I thought you weren’t.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean I’m not exactly the most experienced one here in terms of combat prowess.”

“Didn’t your friend Hunk scream during the gladiator simulation? And didn’t the short one, get stuck in the training ship because her feet couldnt reach the pedals?”

“Not the point.” Taking the opportunity to rest, Lance sat on a nearby bench. “It’s just… This isn’t something I think I can just say ‘Whoops, screwed up, guess I’ll do better next time.’ If I mess up, the others might have to pay for it. A-And to be honest,” Lance clasped his hands and stared down at his shoes. “One of these days I might actually have to hurt someone… a-and I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

He didn’t have to look up to know that Blaytz had taken a seat next to him.

At first his mentor gave no clear reply except for the sounds of his breathing. (An odd sort of whistling noise as he seemed to alternate between breathing out of nose and the gills on his neck), but then he said, in a very quiet voice.

“If you were someone who I thought would be comfortable with hurting someone,” he spoke with a tone stating an absolute fact rather than an opinion. “The blue lion would never have let you into the cockpit.”

A large, almost clamy hand ruffled Lance’s hair.

“Trust me kid. You’re gonna be a great paladin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yyyep Lance and the other's are in this AU!   
> Honestly a part of the reason I was spurred to write this AU was to have an excuse to write the old and new paladins interacting.
> 
> Headcanons regarding Lance and Blaytz here; Nalquod ends up being the first alliance planet to come into contact and develop relations with earth in this AU. As a result Blaytz actually ends up getting really buddy buddy with Lance's family, and actually saw a lot of him growing up. The two have known each other the longest out of all the new paladins and their respective mentors.


	6. Lotor comforts Narti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes its not so easy to keep secrets.

Lotor rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes, and checked the time. 

Three vargas since sunset. Great. He was half a varga late to his meeting with Narti. Just… great. One wouldn’t be able to tell it from her carefully stoic facade, but she could be very impatient when kept waiting.

He would have to find some way to make it up to her.

Narti and Lotor had known one another for years now, and the two of them were the only half Galra in the entirety of the Imperial Palace. This, along with the circumstances of their meeting, had resulted in the two becoming unlikely friends. Not that there were many others around either of them felt they  _ could  _ be friendly.

Lotor was the Prince. A position that gave him a sort of ceremonial authority just below his father, with almost none of the actual respect. Very few of his father’s Commanders and Generals saw him as anything other than the Emperor’s royal brat. The few who didn’t weren’t exactly his biggest fans. Lotor could count the officials he actually got on with on a single hand.

Narti was an outsider. No one knew where she came from or who her parents were. No one even knew what species her other half was. Her presence in the palace was generally viewed upon as a charity project on behalf of the royal family. A point of view that could be distinctly advantageous when people underestimated her. Not that Narti particularly liked being underestimated.

Officially she had no title or military position, but she made herself more than useful to both himself and his mother. His father and Narti weren’t close but seemed to have some sort of unspoken understanding, the terms of which Lotor was not privy to. No one dared to question her presence when she was already fully integrated into the Emperor’s private circle.

Her dedication, loyalty, and skills made her an irreplaceable confidant to the otherwise rather lonely prince. Besides, some of her more unique and lesser known talents helped to keep him ahead of those who’d otherwise have cut him down the first chance they got.

Lotor hurried out of the palace to their usual meeting place. Although they tended to only communicate through non-vocal languages, privacy was still an important asset given the kinds of topics that would occasionally come up.

Not far from the Palace were the training grounds. It was a large, barren, stretch of land far from the city where the soldiers could train to their heart's content without fear of endangering any civilians. During this time of day, however, the area was normally completely deserted due to the ranks being called back for dinner before returning to their other duties.

A perfect place to go when one needed to be alone.

It took him a moment to find Narti. She’d taken up a seat in the shade of one of the cliffs that surrounded the field created by the slowly setting sun. He could see the tiny black agile shape of Kova darting about the grasses.

“I am sorry that I am late,” Lotor said as he approached her from the front, careful to make as much noise as possible. He’d accidentally snuck up on Narti once. Once. “the reports from the Daruvian system took me longer to finish that I had thought.”

Narti didn’t move.

That wasn’t a good sign. 

Lotor cautiously took a seat next to her on the rock she was using as a makeshift stool, and watched as Kova played with a blade of grass that quivered in the wind.

“I know there will likely not be much to report, but I would still like to know about your day.”

Still no movement.

Lotor frowned, feeling rather put out. “Listen, it is not  _ my  _ fault I am late. I can not be expected to prioritize this over my other official duties. If all you are going to do is pout, then I will take my leave.”

He didn’t have any true intention of leaving her, but he hoped the words would spur her into replying.

His calculation proved correct, as Narti slowly raised her hands, and began to sign.

“No. It is alright.”

It had taken him and his mother forever to find a good language for Narti to use casually. Teaching her had also proven to be difficult, requiring them to physically shape her hands while vocalizing the rough translation of each sign over and over until she could form small simple sentences. 

Narti’s knowledge had grown from there. Now she knew several non-vocal languages from all over the universe that she used to try and communicate with different people. Communication still proved to be difficult, however, as many individuals didn’t know even one of the languages. Resulting in Narti having to have Lotor or someone else follow her around to translate.

“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t have lost track of time.” The prince said slightly apologetic.

However, Narti immediately corrected him. “Not your fault. Something else.”

“Something else? You mean there is something else bothering you?”

Narti nodded.

“What is it?”

She hesitated.

“You may tell me. If you fear you will come off as impudent, don’t be. I am impudent nearly every varga of every quintant.”

“You are a prince.”

“Yes, and you and Kova have personally overheard how much respect that earns me when I’m out of earshot. Now tell me.”

Narti remained still for another few moments before her fingers formed a reply. “I overheard some of the men today.”

“What were they discussing?”

“Me.”

Lotor frowned with a sudden foreboding feeling that he knew exactly where this was going.

“What did they say?” He asked. He tried to keep his voice aloof but knew there remained a slight edge to it.

Narti picked up on it and signed, “Nothing important.”

“If it wasn’t important it would not bother you. Now, what did they say?”

It took her a moment to restart, but when she did it was a slow string of explanation, “They were in the barracks. I was just outside. Kova went in chasing a bug.”

Lotor had his suspicions about that. Chances were she had sent him in to try and eavesdrop on the soldiers conversation. She never liked to admit it though. 

It was a funny trait that she always found ways to avoid admitting to eavesdropping, even though they both knew that was her primary means of gaining information, but there it was. Lotor supposed it was a matter of principle.

“They were discussing-” She stopped her fingers, and hesitated.

“Yes?”

It took her a moment to start up again. “They were discussing the matter of succession.”

“Ah,” Lotor clicked his tongue in irritation. 

Narti often overheard things like this. It had been disheartening at first to know that many of his father’s soldiers lacked much faith in their Prince’s ability to lead, but over time Lotor had learned to turn it into a motivation.

“Anything we haven’t heard before?” He asked..

“They thought it odd you could not fly the black lion. That you spent so long on Altea. That you are not in battle more-”

“That last ones not my fault,” Lotor snapped more to himself than at her. “Father seems to think I’m about as useful in a fight as a-”

He stopped as he realized Kova had stopped in his revelry to stare at him. Clearly Narti’s own apprehension at being interrupted was being channeled to him. That or the cat himself disapproved. Either was possible if he were honest.

Narti touched his arm to regain his attention, before signing, much more slowly than before, “They think it odd that you spend so much time with me.”

“So? What is so odd with that? You have been my companion for nearly six years now. Surely they do not disapprove that I keep friends?”

“They do not think we are friends.”

“My servant then.”

“Yes.”

Lotor scoffed, “That gives them even less room to comment.”

“They think me a-” she tilted her head to one side as she thought about how to properly translate this into her fingers. “Compassion project.”

The prince quickly translated this, “A pity project?”

Narti nodded slowly before signing, “Am I?”

“Of course not,” Lotor said gently placing his hands around hers to prevent her interrupting. “You pull more weight in this palace than half the soldiers. Besides, even if you can not see you are still a better pilot than most. You’re undefeated against the training bots, and the times you and I have gone off planet and been in a real fight you have more than-”

Narti pulled her fingers free and quickly signed, “But no one knows about that. It is secret.”

Lotor remained silent as a small feeling of guilt slowly trickled into his mind. It was true that none of Narti’s abilities were exactly showcased. It was just so much easier for her to gather information or work behind the scenes when everyone assumed she was more limited in her capabilities than she truly was. 

In the darker corners of Lotor’s mind the fact that eve the soldiers had this impression was proof that the cover was working better than he thought. However, he dared not say as much to Narti, who was clearly very distressed to know this was what people thought of her.

“They said I did not belong in the palace. That I should be far away. Where no one would see me.”

“That’s enough.” Lotor said. “I get the idea.”

He tried to think about what he could say. The kind thing to do, he knew, was to tell Narti she no longer had to hide her capabilities. To let her show off her skills in as flashy a way as possible so as to settle any doubt as to her contribution to the empire. The soldiers likely wouldn’t adjust their attitude, but just the knowledge that she could throw any of them across a room with just her tail would change their tune.

But then they wouldn’t be able to gather the kind of information necessary to keep them ahead of everyone else. Lotor told himself he could easily manage without Narti’s aid, but he wasn’t very convincing. 

Despite this, he began unwillingly, “If it bothers you that much, I suppose there’s no reason you can not-”

Narti stopped him with a touch, and shook her head.

“No?” 

She nodded.

“But you don’t HAVE to keep it a secret.” Lotor said without thinking. After all there was no reason for him to argue if Narti was perfectly willing to keep it all a secret. “If you so desire.”

“I do not like what they say.” She signed. “But I know it is important to not tell.”

This only made Lotor feel more guilty. 

“Y-yes,” he said unwillingly. “But you do know that there is no way I can prevent you from doing so. If it’s mother and father you are worried about you could always just say you were shy or afraid of how they’d react.”

Then Narti surprised him when she signed, with a sheer frankness, “The emperor and empress are the only two you do not want to know.”

The shot went home. 

This was what he got for telling Narti everything.

“Nonsense, I could care less if they know.” He lied. “It is a purely strategic secret.”

Narti didn’t move or make any kind of expression. Yet Lotor knew she didn’t believe him for a minute. It was frustrating.

“B-Besides,” he went on uncertainly, “this is not about me. It is about you. It is your decision not mine.”

Lotor carefully watched Narti’s hands, awaiting a reply. Instead, he felt a coat of fur rub up against his arm and looked down to see Kova climbing into his lap. He stared at the cat for a moment before allowing himself to unwind a bit as he ran his hand over the animals fur.

“I… do need your help.” He admitted. “However if this makes you unhappy, then I can find another way to get the information I need.”

Narti’s finger pressed against his mouth to silence him. She shook her head before signing, “I know I am useful. I can make do. Thank you for listening.”

As if on cue, Kova crawled from Lotor’s lap and climbed to Narti’s shoulder. She stood up and signed, “It is getting dark. It is time to go back.” before walking away.

Lotor followed after her, feeling a bit more unsure than he would otherwise have preferred. But if Narti felt reassured he supposed it was alright.


End file.
